


I don't know you anymore

by aperrywilliams



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Death, Drama, F/M, Murder, Self-Esteem Issues, Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:21:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24726646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aperrywilliams/pseuds/aperrywilliams
Summary: Reader has to do something before her relationship with Spencer get worse.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Kudos: 48





	1. Part I

With my clothes packed in a suitcase I left it at the side of the apartment entrance. I decided to wait for Spencer sitting on the couch. It was already night and I knew he would come home soon. He had traveled two days ago for a case to Wisconsin. The morning he left to that trip was our last argument.

Don’t get me wrong, when we started our relationship two years ago, we rarely argued. We were always glad to be people who settled their differences by talking and being peaceful. But in the last three months things had taken a turn with which none was comfortable. I knew it and so did he. But neither of us wanted to assume perhaps everything was already lost between us and it was time to step aside and end the relationship.

What changed?. I tried to answer that question many times through those past three months. Natural exhaustion of the relationship? Maybe. His demanding job? Probably. My need to control the uncontrollable? Much of that too. Spencer’s desire to “fix” things that can’t be fixed? Of course, that is in his nature. My wish that things were as they always were and not accept people can change? Definitely yes.

After a lot thought, I came to the conclusion that after his prison time, he and I began to see life in differently way. And I swear I understand him so much. I swear to understand this type of situation can change people tremendously. No, I have not experienced it. But he did it and I could see the changes on him. He became a man who suspicious on everything and everyone, taciturn, silent, even more immersed in his job than before. I’m not saying that he has stopped loving me one day to another, but I do believe our priorities changed drastically, and therefore our relationship. No, he didn’t become violent in a toxic way. I could never say that about Spencer Reid, although sometimes I felt like if I was the worst thing in the world thanks to his words. And is that his excess of sincerity many times collided with my hypersensitivity. I do not blame him. But it wasn’t my fault either. So… what we could do about it?

So ours discussions started. The first few times were brief, quickly ending with a “sorry” escaped from our mouths. We recognized maybe the other could be having a difficult time and it was not fair to “expand” something for didn’t worth an argument. Then they turned into longer discussions, ending with one of us locked in the bedroom and the other trying to “reason”, sometimes successfully, sometimes sleeping apart, but fixing things the next morning . The most severe ones were those in which no one of us was able to say “I’m sorry” and where saying “I love you” was almost a protocol to finish arguing, but without getting anywhere. Sometimes we replaced “sorry” with rough sex so in that way we could discharge our own anger and annoyance, demonstrating to the other that despite everything we needed each other. Even if it was just in a bodily way

The extreme arguments ended with Spencer traveling for a case and not talking for days. And so it was last month: the trips were more frequent and longer. Almost without telephone calls and only a few text messages. Under that scenario, I decided it was time to do something about it. I didn’t want to know how far we could go if neither of us did anything to end this escalation.

I felt his footsteps in the hallway and the turning of the key on the doorknob. I was still sitting on the couch, looking out the window. In silent. The room only illuminated by the lamp on over the coffee table.

“(Y/N)?…” was the first thing he asked after closing the door and realizing I was on the couch. He left his bag hanging on the rack, as well as his blazer.

“Hello Spencer” I replied. In the calmest voice I could, though I was breaking me inside without even saying a word. I couldn’t tell if he already knew what would happen until that minute, but I think if he didn’t already know, he could have guessed when he saw my suitcase next to the door. This was how he slowly approached me, looking at me standing with his hands in his pockets at a safe distance.

“What is your suitcase doing at the entrance…?” he asked cautiously, almost out of courtesy I thought.

“I think you know what my suitcase does there…” I said dryly. It was evident he had already noticed it, but he surely wanted to start by pretending that nothing happened.

“Can we talk about this?… you’re rushing things ”. He came over and sat on the couch next to me.

“Yes. We can talk. That’s why I decided to wait for you. I wasn’t going to leave without giving you an explanation”. It was true. Despite everything, we deserved a goodbye face to face. I wasn’t going to leave him a letter to avoid looking him in the eye for the last time, although I knew that would completely break me. It was fair for both of us.

"You don’t have to leave. We can fix this, seriously. Please, let’s talk, leaving me is not going to be the solution to our problems” he said, trying to dissuade me. Surely he thought was not a conclusive decision. Sure he thought I was pressuring him with my "supposed” departure to ask me for forgiveness.

“And what is the solution to our problems? Do you really know?”. I don’t know if I expected an answer to that, but I felt like I should ask anyway.

“To try. That is what we must do. We deserve a chance” he said taking my hands. I had to muster the courage not to push him away and try to stop shaking.

"How many chances Spencer? … Can’t you see this is hurting us?” . A sob tore from my throat. I could not avoid it. I could see how he bit his lower lip trying to stop the tears that also came out of his eyes.

“The necessary… we need to try the necessary. We can’t throw away all this time we’ve been together… where we’ve been happy, haven’t you been happy with me (Y/N)?”. One of his hands began to caress my cheek. It was more tact than I could tolerate on his part without me falling apart right there. I gently removed his hand from my cheek.

“Of course I do. I have been happy with you Spencer. And I’m not throwing this overboard. That is my reason precisely: if we continue with this it’ll end up killing any good memory we have about our relationship, don’t you see that it is not possible to fix what is already broken? You don’t trust me anymore, and I feel like I don’t know you anymore… you are someone else, you want other things… ”. I could see how Spencer froze upon hearing my words. He doubted what was going to say to me, he opened his mouth many times without words could come out. Until they did.

“Is this how you want to end it? Giving up?” He said getting up from the couch and returning to his place leaning against one of the walls with his hands in his pockets.

"If you call ‘giving up’ stepping aside from this for the well being of both… then yes, I’m giving up…”. I managed to say before beginning to cry openly.

“Please (Y/N), let’s try it one more time. I love you, don’t you love me?…”. He pulled his hands out of his pockets but was unable to get close to me. I tried my best to calm down before speaking again.

“Spencer, I love you with all my heart. I love you so much that it hurts. It hurts me not to recognize you, and it hurts me not to recognize myself. And what hurts me the most is not living up to what really you need. Not be the woman your deserve Spencer”. Until I finally said it. What I tried to show him all these months I was finally telling him.

"But what are you saying? How is it you’re not enough to me?… Where did you get that…?”. He looked at me in a daze. Perhaps it was the only thing he not expected from my speech.

“Look at us now. Tell me, what can I offer your life? What special thing can I give you?. A genius, an FBI agent who saves people lives from the worst tortures in the world , who has gone through so much in these years. You are a person who live and breathe for the job you do, passionate about knowledge, who could have any beauty and intelligent woman at his feet, who could live without having to stop in life routine with someone who does not understand your world… who doesn’t accept you like you are…". I couldn’t continue talking. I sincerely hoped he would understand. He walked over and sat across from me at the coffee table, taking my hands again trying I could look at him.

“It’s not true what you’re saying (Y/N)… you can’t really think that…” But yeah, I thought about it. And I was sure I was right and he knew it . I was just a stone in his shoe. I was not allowing him to move forward. He deserved more than I could offer him. That was the sad truth.

“You know it’s true Spencer. This has been the reason for our estrangement all along. I will never really understand what you do or help you get what you need in life. I’m holding you back and that’s what I least want in the world, precisely because I love you. You deserve more than I can give you”. And that’s it. It was done, I said what I really felt and it was time to act. I got up from the couch. Without saying anything, he got up from the coffee table too. I looked him in the eyes, just like me, tears fell from them. With the last strength I had, I wiped the tears from his cheeks with my thumbs. I walked over and gave him the last kiss. I wanted my last memory to be the softness of his lips in contact with mine. He tried to deepen the kiss, as if he wanted to hold me back. I pulled away. He tried to speak.

“(Y/N)…” was the only thing that came out of his mouth. I’m sure he was taking in my words and looking for meaning on them.

“Goodbye Spencer”. I looked away from him face. I walked to the entrance, took my suitcase and left the apartment, not wanting to look back. My life with Spencer Reid was over in that moment.


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer has to rebuild his life without her. Could he do that?

> _Because I don’t know you anymore  
> _ _I don’t recognize this place  
> _ _The picture frames have changed  
> _ _And so has your name  
> _ _We don’t talk much anymore  
> _ _We keep running from the pain  
> _ _But what I wouldn’t give to see your face again_

I could not say exactly which was the reason I was more confused, if because (Y/N) was indeed gone or the explanations I didn’t expect to hear from her. Deep down inside of me I knew sooner or later this could happen, although there is always a secret hope it won’t. Now I had to place one more check on my list of “failures”. It was fair? In this case I didn’t know. Was there some reason in (Y/N)’s words? Yes. At least in some of them.

Our estrangement began a few months before the departure of (Y/N). Not even with my genius skills could I tell exactly when it all started to fall apart. I guess at a point where my indifference, unintended by the way, and her patience reached a limit no one thought it could. Why did we let this gone so far? I don’t know. And it wasn’t always so. One of the things we both agreed when we started our relationship was we shouldn’t shut things up, that we had to talk about our problems, we had to tell the other how we felt. And it had worked. We trusted each other. We talked all the time and about everything, even if I had to be away for work. We managed to call each other, send us messages. We never went to sleep without saying good night. Obviously it was better if we were in each other’s arms, but it was never a problem if for some reason it wasn’t possible.

But there was a point where we stopped talking. For tiredness sometimes, I guess. Because was easier to give a kiss, to say “I love you” and continue the routine. I don’t know at what point “I love you” stopped meaning what it powerfully meant at first. It’s amazing how words wear out as much as people. I’m sure she felt that. And it hurts, because I still love her. The question is whether it’s true you can to love someone so much that you’re willing to let her go for same reason. That power I didn’t think was possible. Maybe until now. And in that (Y/N) was right: this mutual pain was not fair to any of us. Something had to be done about it.

Just I can’t understand why she thinks she wasn’t enough for me. Did I really make her feel that? Did I make her feel like she was a worthless person to me?. That hurts me deeply, because I really don’t think in that way quite the opposite, it’s me who don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve her love, her patience, her understanding. (Y/N) was at my side in one of the most difficult moments of my life: my stay in prison. She was the only one who never had any doubts about me. The one moved heaven and earth to help me, to be with me. And she was who received the worst pay from me. I hurt her and I’ll never forgive myself for that.

I wanted to repair the damage, only when I realized what I had done, it was too late. It took me one week and 8 hours to decide to go after her and to try to explain things and tell her she shouldn’t have doubts about my feelings for her. I wanted to tell her. I called her, I went to her sister’s house, I went to her work. But (Y/N) had disappeared from earth. Without leaving any trace. She didn’t want to be found, at the least for me. So I had to swallow my own words and assume I had lost my chance, that I would have to put my life back together without her. Sometimes I was tempted to use my resources - Garcia - to be able to reach her, but I regretted of doing that thinking I’d be transgressing her own desires of distance herself from me. At least I thought I owed her that: if she didn’t want me around, I would have to respect her wish.

It has been hard to restore my life after all. Especially knowing I could have avoided this. That I had the signs and I preferred to ignore them systematically.

Only after the third week of her departure I returned to work. Curiously, she had to leave for me to take a time off, so I could focus on me. That time could perfectly have been for both of us. Ironies of life and my sentimental incompetence. I sought advice in this regard, knowing my inner genius was not going to help me in this. J.J. was the first to know what had happened.

“Spence, are you sure a good conversation would be insufficient to try to fix things?”

“Only if I could get to her. And even if I could, I don’t think she wants to hear me. I lost my opportunity J.J., I lost her”. I said with broken voice.

"But do you love her?… Have you ever wondered if you’re really in love with her, enough to let her go?”. That was a valid question. I wasn’t sure myself about that.

"I want her to be happy. And with me she was no longer happy. I don’t deserve to keep her just because I don’t feel like I can let her go”

"She told you the same thing, didn’t she?” she answered back. Yes, she was right, (Y/N) surely thought the same.

“Yes, she did… she told me she did not feel capable of deserving me. What did I do to make her think that?”. Those words still echoed in my head.

“You left her out of your life, Spence. That was what she felt. And do you know why you did it?”. J.J. asked me, not in a reproachful tone, but really trying to understand if I was clear about what had really happened.

"I don’t know… I… I just wanted to leave her out of this torment. You know being in jail brought out the worst in me. I didn’t want her to see that… I wanted to take her away from all that…”. That was what my head gave me in response. The most rational thing and what made the most sense to me was I had pushed her away trying to “protect” her from my new demons, doing the exact opposite of what we had originally agreed.

“Are you sure there isn’t something else she could have been misinterpreted? Did you both ever talk about where you wanted to take your relationship?”. That question left me wondering for a moment. Had we discussed it? Only thing I remembered was when I was released from prison I promised her I would make up for all the time we parted and continue our life together. I did it?. Wow, now I’m wondering and I don’t know what to answer. I suppose not. I failed miserably at my own promises. And I was just realizing it.

After two months without (Y/N) there was not much more I could do, so I continued with my life in the way I was leading it to that minute. I immersed myself in work, even more than I already was. My efforts went out of their way to be the most helpful resident genius for the team. And if that meant traveling more than necessary, I was willing. What I least wanted was to be in my place, because being there alone, seeing my bed empty and living room in silence still produced me pain. Months passed and that pain was silently easing. Was I ready to go on? Maybe I should try.

One day arriving at the BAU, I met Luke in the elevator. Just as it was about to close the door, I saw a woman come running and I stopped the door so she could enter. She thanked me and saw Luke, who apparently did know her.

“Luke, how are you? I hadn’t realized you were in the elevator” said the woman, interspersing looks between him and me.

“Hey, I’m good. How is Domestic Terrorism going?” he asked.

"Well, you know… there are weeks and weeks” she replied laughing. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” she said turning her gaze back to me. I got a little uncomfortable, but she didn’t seem like an intimidating woman despite her obvious outgoing personality.

“Yeah, of course. Leanne, he is Dr. Spencer Reid, he works with me at BAU. Spencer, she is Leanne, we know each other from when I started working for the FBI, she is currently in…”

"Domestic Terrorism …” I interrupted. I smiled at her in greeting. She smiled back.

Leanne is a nice woman. We started dating few weeks after the elevator incident. Luke was happy to have acted as an intermediary and always encouraged me to ask her out, that it would good to me, that she was a good woman, and very sexy too. That is true. That woman could make you gasp when she got too close to you. I also noticed something I found interesting: she had a job very similar to mine. She traveled as much as I did, so our schedules were very changeable and none of us cared about it. Thus began our relationship. And since there was no time to lose, since anyone could die the next day - in her own words - we skipped coffee and lunch dates, ending up in bed having sex as if the world was going to end. I’m not going to say I questioned myself a lot about it. It didn’t seem like a bad deal to me.

Curiously, we always ended up in her apartment and not in mine. The times she asked me about it - not many - I couldn’t give her a complete answer. But I knew it. My apartment was still my grief space. At least, where I could collect my thoughts alone without being disturbed. I was not ready to open that space to anyone else.

One afternoon during a break in work, I was making myself a coffee in the kitchen and Prentiss approached to the place with the same purpose. As I poured coffee into my mug, Emily started talking to me.

“Everything okay with Leanne?”. Prentiss asked me.

“Yeah. We’re fine, I guess”. I replied without giving much detail about our relationship. Relationship that after a while could not say if it was something so accurate to say about I have with Leanne.

"She seems an intelligent woman. She is also very pretty and it is clear she is on the same page as you…” Prentiss said as also now poured coffee into her mug. I froze when I heard Emily’s words.

"What did you say?… Sorry, I got distracted…”. I said back trying to hide my stun.

“No, nothing… I just said that Leanne is an intelligent, beautiful woman and knows perfectly well what it’s to work in the FBI. Just that”. Prentiss looked at me with concern and as if she were stepping on eggshells with her words. “Spencer, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?”. I couldn’t help it, I felt the (Y/N) words in my head over and over again. A little over a year had passed and it seemed as if I had heard them yesterday.

“No, nothing wrong. It’s just that…”. I didn’t manage to elaborate my answer before Garcia quickly approached us.

"Boss, I think we have an urgent case”. She said to Emily, prompting both Prentiss and I to leave our conversation. We all lead our feet to the conference room. Prentiss after reviewing some files with Penelope, sat down at the table with us. Garcia began to speak.

“Francesca Garrett, 32 years old. Originally from New York . She was found dead in her Philadelphia apartment two days ago. Four hours ago today, Christine Adler, 34 years old, of Richmond, was also found dead at her home in Philadelphia. As you will see, multiple injuries and a sick cruelty…”. Garcia said without wanting to look at the photographs on the screen.

“I could say there is something clear about victimology, but we need more information about Christine. Garcia will collect data while we travel to Philadelphia. We’ll leave in 20 minutes". With that last words Emily ended the meeting and we went to collect our belongings for the trip.

The trip to Philadelphia was short, but enough for me to return to Emily’s words again. Sure, it took to the genius Spencer Reid a year to figure out what his ex-girlfriend meant when she left. Well, what did that leave me with?. I don’t know, I didn’t feel better after the realization.

Once installed at the Hawthorne Police Station we began to review victimology again. With the information Garcia provided, we could able to know some things connected the victims: women in their early 30’s, of average height, same color hair, same color eyes. Geographically originating from cities surrounding Philadelphia. Of diverse professions. What we couldn’t find was the point where the two women connected: they didn’t seem to know each other or crossed at any time in their lives. Until something appeared. Apparently all these women contacted a man to “run” from the cities where they previously lived and move to Philadelphia without raising any suspicions and without being linked to any illegal issue. It’s as if naturally the course of their lives had brought them to that place. Now we just had to find who wanted to harm these women we assumed should be on a list.

“I have the contact and I have his list!” Garcia said after a day and a half digging and lifting all the stones we could.

“Okay, Tara, Luke and Matt will contact the women on the list for questioning. J.J. and Spencer will continue to search the records of Christine and Francesca… “. Prentiss was interrupted by the local officer.

"We have another body… Coline Thompson” said the police officer.

“Damn it… Ok. Thanks officer. J.J. and Spencer you are going to the crime scene. With Dave we’ll see the new Coline data and if she is on the list” said Prentiss as we leave with J.J. to the new crime scene.

I have seen many crime scenes in the years I have been working with the FBI and many of them horrendous. This didn’t seem so much of that, but when I saw the girl’s dead body on the floor something triggered in me and I felt an uncontrollable urge to puke.

“Spence, are you okay?…” J.J. asked me.

“Yes. I don’t know why this body produced me this reaction…”. She looked at me and looked at the body again.

"You haven’t felt well since we left the BAU…”. She pointed out. Although I would have liked to tell J.J. about what was going through my head, it was not the time. We had work to do.

“I don’t know, just look at this poor women. Maybe they were running away for to have a better life and end like this. It’s not fair”. Seeing that body didn’t stop me from thinking about (Y/N) and not just because I thought she would be having a better life now without me, but also because of the obvious physical similarities I could see with the victims. That made me feel more nauseous. I had to control myself again.

We concluded it was the same unsub: the same MO, the same way to dispose of the bodies. Coline was also on the infamous list as Prentiss later said. It was obvious.

Tara, Matt and Luke arrived the next day with almost all the women on the list interviewed. Some could not be contacted so an order to come to the police station for a debriefing was left for them. We were still investigating possible suspects who would connect with the case. We had doubts about a women trafficking cartel interested in the list, but it made no sense they would kill women they was seeking for other purposes. It was necessary to continue investigating.

During that afternoon, several of the women on the list the team was unable to interview at home arrived at the police station. The room we were in had the blinds open, so you could see the station entrance.

It was around 5:00 p.m. When one of them entered and approached to the main desk to ask a question to the officer on the reception. Feeling her voice I couldn’t help but look at the main desk.

“Hi, my name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), I’m here to talk to Detective Gibson…” she said.

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped feet to the ground. J.J. was in the room with Tara and Luke and seeing my reaction and hearing the same thing as me, she took the list from the desk. I was getting up from my chair to go out and go to the main desk when J.J. takes my arm to stop me.

“Spencer, don’t. Don’t go there. (Y/N) is on the list. You can’t talk to her yet, until we question her…” said J.J. trying to pause me.

"What? J.J. you can’t… if she is in the list I have to do something…” I said trying to release her grip. Tara didn’t know what was happening but she suspected it was serious, she got up and she closed the office door, lowering the blind that gave view to the main desk of the station. I didn’t know what was most distressing at the moment, seeing (Y/N) again or knowing she was on a list of potential victims of murder. Exhaustion, fatigue from not having lunch, and nausea returned to me, causing me to collapse on the floor. I just black out.


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now Reader ends up involved in a case that is more complex than it seems.

> _I know I let you down_  
>  _Again and again  
> _ _I know I never really treated you right  
> _ _I’ve paid the price  
> _ _I’m still paying for it every day_

The least I expected to see when I walked into my apartment after work was a piece of paper under the door with the letterhead of Hawthorne Police Station and my name written on it. It was an urgent summons to present myself there. The reasons were not very specific, only it was important in order to collaborate in an ongoing investigation. I tried to imagine what this was all about. It didn’t occur to me what it might be, but it seemed urgent, so after eating something I took my keys again and headed for the police station.

I felt something strange about this. And it’s true things in my life had been a bit strange lately. I had recently started a relationship with someone. Well, 'getting started' is perhaps a vague word in this case, given I had a relationship with Hunter before, when I had just arrived in DC, more than 5 years ago, even before met Spencer. We restarted contact the moment I asked for help to leave DC a little over a year ago. He helped me settle in Philadelphia and while I wasn't ready to have a relationship with anyone again, a few weeks ago I gave it a try and we started to get closer again. Hunter is a good man, loving and caring. Unfortunately we had seen little of each other in the past few days because he was out of town due to his job as an interstate realtor. It seems I have a fixation on men who have jobs involve travel. Anyway, at least in Hunter's case travels seemed to be more sporadic.

When I got to the station I walked over to the main counter and asked about Detective Gibson, who was the one who signed the paper I found at the entrance to my apartment. I handed the paper to the officer and he immediately made me walk down a hallway to the entrance of a room where there were three chairs around a metal table. He asked me to wait for the detective sitting in one of those chairs, he would come to talk to me soon.

****

"Reid?... Spencer?... Spencer!". In the distance I felt a voice repeating my name seeking some reaction from me. When I woke up, I was lying on the couch in the meeting room where we’re installed and felt the eyes of Prentiss and JJ fixed on me. I looked around and there was no one else in the room. I had a hard time putting my thoughts back on what had happened before I passed out. Within seconds I was sitting and everything had come to my memory again.

"(Y/N)..." I said, trying to get up from the couch. Prentiss stopped me and started talking, while J.J. handed me a sandwich to replenish my fatigue.

“Spencer. You cannot speak to (Y/N). As J.J. said, she is on the list. We had not made the connection when seeing her name since none of us knew her last name, but we did the checkup and yes, it's her…”. Prentiss explained.

"Where is she…?" I said, after taking a piece of the sandwich and beginning to eat it by inertia.

"In the debriefing room waiting for Detective Gibson. But before he interrogates her, we have to agree with him what our line of questions will be... and if it is necessary for any of us to be present" said J.J.

"How is that about ‘line of questions’?... It should be the same thing has been done with the rest of the women from the list..." I answered a little confused.

"It’s not so. We did a quick checkup with Garcia and (Y/N) could be more involved in this matter than we think… she know directly to Hunter Rosten, the 'owner' of the list” said Emily, studying every reaction on my face.

"What?... it's not possible, she wouldn't get involved in something illegal... no, (Y/N) is incapable of something like that...". I said, already getting up from the couch and starting to pace around the room.

"We are not saying she is involved in that way, strictly speaking we do not know if Hunter Rosten is too, we only know he is the owner of the list and he is missing. We need (Y/N) to get to Rosten first”. Emily finished, as I sat back down in one of the chairs around the conference table.

"I don't get it, if she is involved with the deaths why would she be here now... it doesn't make sense". My mind was trying to fit the pieces of what was happening.

“It's what we have to find out. But for that, I need you to stay out of this. The only thing you can help us with now is to obtain more information about (Y/N) that could give some clue, but you cannot conduct the interrogation, much less approach to her” said Emily. I just shook my head trying to shake off the confusion and discredit of what was going on.

"And who's going to question her, besides Gibson?" I asked without raising my head.

“That is the problem, she knows us all. Who do you think makes her feel less intimidated? It’s clear she’ll know you are in this, but if she doesn’t see you, she will be of help…” J.J. asked. I thought for a few minutes before answering.

"It should be Emily. Although she knows we are friends, being you unit chief she’ll tend to be more cooperative if you explain to her this is for a greater good and doesn't matter if I’m involved”. As I said it and I let out a sigh. I started to panic. What had happened in this year in the life of (Y/N) to ended up involved in something like this?

"Okay, I'll do it" said Emily, taking the folders from the table. Before leaving looked at me. She didn’t know what to tell me but she knew had to say something before walking out that door. “Spencer, we shouldn't jump to more conclusions without further evidence. Let's just do our job to clear this up. I know it's hard, it's about (Y/N), but please try to stay calm as much as you can. We need you on this too". I could only look at her with pleading eyes. Then she left the meeting room. With Prentiss out my eyes turned to J.J.

“I need to see her, even if it is through glass. J.J., please…”. She knew what I was asking was quite outside Emily had instructed, but that thin limit allowed her to take some pity on me. She nodded, peered into the hallway to make sure (Y/N), Gibson, and Prentiss were in the interview room, and then motioned for me to follow her.

****

The wait seemed endless. I didn't know how long I was waiting until two people entered the room where I was sitting. A man and a woman. The man in uniform I assumed was Detective Gibson, the woman meanwhile, I was sure I 'd seen her before. At that moment, with the nerves I didn’t know how to associate her face with my knowledge of who it was, until both of them introduced themselves.

“Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N), my name is Albert Gibson, homicide detective with the local Philadelphia police office, and she is FBI Special Supervisory Agent Emily Prentiss… we need to ask you some questions about Hunter Rosten”. Sure, of course I knew the woman. This is Emily from the FBI, Spencer's boss. At least she was in the time we were together. Emily realized I recognized her and nodded, giving me the answer I needed. She crossed her hands on the table between us and began to speak.

“(Y/N), my presence here is only intended to be able to ask you questions about a case that we’re working together with the Philadelphia police. That’s the reason for the citation in first place. We have a series of disappearances and… deaths related to people who knew Mr. Hunter Rosten, so any information you can provide about him is important…”. Emily's voice was calm, as if she was trying not to disturb me despite the information she was giving to me. These people are amazing, they make terrible things seem like normal things.

"Hunter? Why? What does he have to do with all this?". I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"We have no certainty at the moment. We are following leads and the only thing we know about Hunter is he is missing and he had a list of women... women who come from different parts of the country and settled here in Philadelphia. Unfortunately there are 3 women on that list who are dead now…”. At that moment I froze. A list? What was she talking about? Hunter missing? None of this made sense.

“Hunter is not missing… I mean, he's travelling. He called me three days ago... no... how?...”. My face must have denoted my stupor, because Emily offered me a glass of water. I accepted it with a shy nod. My hands were shaking and so as not to cry and avoid looking at the two people who had their eyes on me, I concentrated on the mirror at the end of the room. I tried to regulate my breathing. I knew there were things I would have to say and although I didn't like the idea of revealing certain things from my past and current life, there were women dying and that was upsetting me. I was more upset to know Hunter might have something to do with it. If it had to be an open book as long as this cleared up, I didn't care. Even knowing that behind the glass would be Spencer. Don't ask me how, but I could feel him.

****

It had been over a year since I saw (Y/N) last time and seeing her behind the glass in the interrogation room only reminded me to the last moment we shared together. When she said goodbye and gave me one last kiss. Now I could see her even more vulnerable than last time, and more scared too. Her body language denoted stupor, confusion, and huge fear. Every time Emily added some information, I could see how she tensed more in the chair and began to fidget her fingers, a typical gesture when she was nervous and overwhelmed by something. Her confusion and amazement looked genuine, I couldn't tell she was lying about it. It’s clear I was not the best judge at the moment, but I was sure J.J. and Rossi, who were in the room with me, could say the same as me.

"How long have you known Hunter Rosten?" Detective Gibson asked her. (Y/N) spent a few seconds thinking before answering.

"Maybe a little over 5 years. When I moved to DC I looked for a real estate agent to help me find an apartment near where I worked. A colleague from the office where I worked in Baltimore gave me Hunter's contact and I called him for that purpose…” (Y/N) replied.

"Did you keep in touch after that?" Gibson asked again.

"Yes. Finally he showed me several places that could be suitable according to I was looking for. I chose one I could pay with the money I had up to that moment…” said (Y/N).

"What was you working on at the time?" Gibson interrupted.

“Upon arrival in DC, I began working as a research assistant to a professor at Georgetown University. Given my computer skills, I was trained to work in databases and statistical analysis”.

Yes, that was how I met (Y/N). When I started teaching sporadic classes in Georgetown I had the opportunity to collaborate with Dr. Andrew Stevens, the boss of (Y/N) at the time. She started as his assistant, but eventually became his most prolific collaborator. Honestly speaking, Stevens was pretty much nil when it came to processing data, so he relied heavily on (Y/N) 's abilities.

"And after finding an apartment, did you keep in touch with Hunter?" Gibson continued.

"Yes. He helped me get a good move tips and helped me with the rent paperwork” said (Y/N).

"A gentleman, right?... Did you keep seeing each other after that?" I knew where Gibson wanted to go and was sure (Y/N) too, but his discourtesy in his words made her stand on the defensive.

"Yes, a while. Are you going to ask me if we dating? Yes, we were dating a while, if that's what you want to know” she replied with visible weariness. Surely uncomfortable saying all that in front of Emily.

"How long did the relationship last?" Gibson asked, not caring about (Y/N)'s discomfort.

"A few months, maybe 2 or 3. It wasn't very long" she stated.

"Why you broke up?" Gibson asked without flinching.

“Is all this really important…? Do I need to talk about my personal life...?. At that moment I saw the anger in the eyes of (Y/N). She never liked rodeos and clearly this interrogation seemed like exactly that to her.

"We just want to establish closeness between you. It’s not to know details of you relationship, but we need to understand some actions or decisions Hunter could have taken in this time…”. Prentiss said, trying to calm (Y/N). She held her head in both hands. She looked tired.

"Ok. Ok. I already said our relationship lasted no more than three months. We ended because... because I fell in love with someone else... and told him so". Saying that, she looked directly at the glass. She knew I was there. Or at least suspected it.

"How did Hunter take it?" Emily asked.

"Well, he wasn't too pleased with the idea. But he understood. After that, we only talked when I had some friends questions about properties, or if he wanted some publicity among my colleagues. Did we broke up in violent term? Absolutely not. Nor did he insist or try to make me change my mind. After that we didn't see each other anymore. Just a few calls or emails” (Y/N) said dryly.

"Did that last over time...? Emails and calls?” Prentiss asked.

“No… after a year we finally lost contact. I mean, I always had his number and he had mine, but we never spoke again”

"When did you resume contact and why?". Emily asked. I could see (Y/N) biting her lower lip and her eyes began to fill with tears.

“A little over a year ago I called him. I was in a difficult situation. I never had many friends in DC and ... I needed to get out of town. To start again somewhere else…” (Y/N) tried to explain.

"Were you involved in any misconduct and needed to escape...?" Gibson interrupted. Prentiss looked at Gibson reproachfully, for he was pushing harder.

"No! Of course not! ... I just had to leave the city... I had… I broke up with my 3 years boyfriend, with whom I lived and I needed to get away… from him”. She ended saying with a sob. Those words hit me like a truck and made me angry enough to punch the wall behind me. Rossi and J.J. looked at me with concern.

"Spence... maybe you better not keep watching the interrogation..." J.J. suggested. I just shook my head.

"I'm fine. I can stay here. Don't worry about me, just focus on her and what can be useful for the investigation”. I said without even looking at them.

"And how did Hunter help you?" Gibson asked.

"I asked him if he had contacts to look properties in Chicago..." said (Y/N).

"Why Chicago and not Philadelphia in first place?". Emily asked with a frown. (Y/N) sighed and then replied.

“My first choice was Chicago, I wanted to try luck at Chicago State University. I thought it might be a good option for me. But Hunter convinced me Philadelphia was better, being a slightly smaller city compared to Chicago and it could be more compatible with the quieter life I wanted to lead. Moreover, he gave me some contacts to speak at the University of Pennsylvania, where I'm working now..." said (Y/N).

"That's weird..." said Rossi. And yes, he was right. (Y/N)'s first choice was not Philadelphia but Chicago, and Hunter had convinced her to change her mind.

“It's the same thing he could have done with the rest of the women on the list. Maybe he convinced them to come to Philadelphia” added J.J.

"But... for what purpose?... What did he gain bring they to Philly?" Rossi asked. My brain also began to search for potential reasons to make sense of the facts. I tried to make connections and two things came to mind, one of which I didn't even want to verbalize at the time.

“This in part has to be related to properties. Moving to Philadelphia has to bring benefits to Hunter, beyond a good commission for every rent or sell he makes...". I said trying to explain part of my point.

"But that does not explain why there are dead women and, even more, with such a specific victimology" replied J.J.

"Maybe it’s a dual purpose: to attack Hunter's business and Hunter himself..." Rossi reflected. That said, he dialed Garcia's number. “Garcia, we need to know more about Hunter Rosten's business. He was presenting himself as a property agent. Is there something special about the properties he managed? Did he be associated with something other than the real estate business?". Penelope replied she would search and would call us immediately when she found something. J.J. texted Prentiss to ask (Y/N) if something strange had happened to her or Hunter these days. Meanwhile Prentiss and Gibson continued the interrogation.

"All right. After you settled in Philadelphia, did you keep in touch with Hunter?... ” Gibson continued.

"Yes. We keep in touch during these months. From time to time he called me to ask me how I was…” .

"And something else besides phone calls?" Prentiss asked.

"Well... two weeks ago we started dating again... and now we are in a relationship...". (Y/N) said quietly, as if trying I wasn't able to listen. But I don't know why when I heard it I felt angry. I had no right. In fact I was also in a 'relationship' with someone, but imagining another man touching her stuck a stake in my stomach. She had definitely got on with her life. Did I do the same?

"Do you live together?... do you know where is he now?" Gibson hurried asking.

"No... we don't live together. Five days ago he went on a work trip, he told me. Hunter called me three days ago to tell me he was fine and to ask me if I was fine. He looked worried, but he didn't want to tell me if something happened… although after knowing all this, I suppose something did happen…”

***

I didn’t know how much longer I could stand in this interrogation. I felt like I had been there for hours. And they kept asking me the same thing over and over again. It wasn't enough I had to talk about my relationship with Hunter, or to admit I had left DC because I had broken up with Spencer and start all over again. Also I had to try to think if I knew the three women who were murdered and who were related to a list of which I had no idea that I was part of.

I was astonished when they told me Hunter had “helped” many women settle in Philadelphia. I felt like I was part of some crime I completely ignored. I felt dirty and didn't know why. I felt guilty and nobody knew to explain me why.

Finally they finished questioning me and left the room, but not before telling me to wait a moment for a police officer to escort me to my house. The same officer who would later remain a fixed point outside the building 'for my protection'. I don't know how they expected me to take something like that, but at least I was more confused than when I got to the police station. I had more questions than answers. But I didn't want to fight anyone, I was tired and I just wanted to go home to sleep. I didn't mind knowing Spencer was on the other side of the mirror, surely judging me for everything I said in that room. I sat staring at the table that was now empty. From time to time I looked at the mirror, but I couldn't hold my gaze on it, both for me and for whoever I knew was on the other side.

***

After the interrogation, Rossi and J.J. were to the meeting room to join Prentiss. Seeing I wasn't following them, J.J. looked at me. "I'll go soon. I need a few minutes”. I said looking to (Y/N) through the glass. J.J. said nothing and left the room closing the door. I was unable to contain the tears that had been stagnant during the entire interrogation. I would have given everything to go hug her, to go comfort her, to tell her that everything would be fine, that she was not alone. But I couldn’t. And while I was sure she knew I was there, that gave me no right. Her eyes fixed on the table were a sign she didn’t want to look at me. For just an instant I felt her eyes on me. And I knew it. I had never stopped loving her. And no matter what I did, how long time passed or how far she had run from me, my feelings hadn't changed in the least. She is the love of my life. I had to do something to get her back, but first I had to do something to make sure she is safe. After taking a deep breath I took my eyes off her and left the room to join the rest of the team.

"Ok. Garcia, what did you find out?” Rossi said, as we were all around the meeting table.

"I don't know where to start. But I can assure you every fact I’ll will say it follows a worse one…”. My stomach started to clench again.

"Tell us..." Prentiss hurried.

"Yes. Ok. Hunter Rosten. It’s true he has a certificate as a real estate agent. But his profession of origin is chemistry. This isn’t in the official records, in fact I had to open sealed files..."

"Sealed by whom?" Luke asked.

"The same FBI. And this is where it gets all interesting. It turns out Hunter Rosten was a asset to Domestic Terrorism between 2008 and 2010. They then lost his track until 2013 when he appears in DC selling his first properties. The problem is that properties Hunter manages are 'dirty' properties…”

"Dirty? What does that mean? ..." J.J. asked

“They are properties are associated with drug dealers from different cities where he worked and were 'cleaned' by Hunter between 2013 and 2018. Many of them belonged to local cartels, others to small traffickers, and a few to interstate networks… even in some of them he had his own lab”.

"So the list has to do with 'cleaned properties'... and the women he installed there?" Tara asked.

Hunter didn’t work alone at that time. After he reappeared in 2013, he was linked to an associate, Gabriel Dickinson. In fact, Rosten's list also Dickinson had it. Records say Dickinson broke ‘business’ relationships with Rosten and he joined one of the Philadelphia cartels. Dickinson has reports of assault on women and was arrested multiple times for domestic violence…"

"But go from domestic violence to serial killer..." Matt interrupted.

"What if it's just to get revenge on Hunter?... that is, his partner softens over time, stops cooking drugs, decreases the amount of cleaned properties, he realizes he collaborated with the FBI... he must be very upset…” Rossi argued.

"Okay. And why now? And why kill women and not just Hunter?" I asked. That was what bothered me the most. I could understand the big picture, but it didn’t explain the women deaths.

"Jealousy" said Emily. "Think of it this way: Rossi is right, Hunter's life is going according to plan with his partner, but in addition to 'softening' he begins a relationship with (Y/N) 'two weeks ago'. The murders started a week ago. The similarities of the victims with (Y/N) are evident. They are a message to Hunter…” pointed Emily.

"Surrogates for (Y/N)?". I asked barely audibly. Now it was making all the sense to me, I just didn't like where this was going.

"And not herself... because it’s a message. If he had directly attacked (Y/N) he knew would lose Hunter completely” said Rossi.

"Guys... guys!" Penelope's voice rang out on the speaker. "I know where Dickinson is now. Traffic cameras place him on Allison Street with Master Av.… this is two blocks from (Y/N)’s apartment…”. Garcia was unable to finish speaking and I grabbed my blazer and ran from the police station. From a distance I heard Emily was trying to stop me while Rossi summoned the police officers from the station. This bastard was about to finish his job but a surrogate wasn't enough, now he was after (Y/N). I don't know how with my trembling legs I managed to get in the car and start driving with all the speed I could. I knew even with a fixed-point cop in the building, (Y/N) 's life was in danger. I had to hurry up. I couldn't allow something to happen to her. I had to stop this madness. While I was driving I just kept saying “(Y/N), please my love… don't leave me... don't leave me. I'm on my way, I'm on my way…”


	4. Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The case is resolved and Reader is exonerated, but she must now think about what to do with her life from now on.

_Springtime in the city_

_Always such a relief from winter freeze_

_T_ _he snow was more lonely than cold if you know what I mean_

_E_ _veryone's got an agenda_

_Don't stop keep that chin up you'll be alright_

_Can you believe what a year it's been_

_Are you still the same?_

_Has your opinion changed?_

The trip to my apartment was longer than I would have expected. Fortunately, the police officer was silent the entire time. I was in no mood to talk. Upon arriving at the building, I thanked him and immediately went up to my apartment. I just wanted to shower and go to bed. Tears were streaming from my eyes. I didn't expect to have to relive things that still seemed painful to me, nor did I expect to have to find out horrible things like the ones I had to hear.

When I was going to open the apartment door I noticed something strange: the door was closed but not locked. I tried to remember if I had forgotten to locked it when I left to the police station. When I entered I began to look for the switch to turn on the light, when I was about to reach it, I felt some arms pulling me into the apartment, one hand covered my mouth to prevent me from screaming and the other slamming the door to close it. Everything happened so fast I didn't even try to scream, I was speechless with fear and stupor.

“(Y/N), it's me… don't make any noise. I'm not going to hurt you…". There I recognized the voice of Hunter who still had not removed his hand from my mouth. "I'm going to release you, but please don't scream...". I don't know if he expected me to do something different, but I just tried to nod. After a few seconds, he released me so I could turn around to try to look at him. It was dark, but my eyes were already getting used to the gloom so I could at least make out his figure.

"What the fuck, Hunter? What is all this?. Everyone is looking for you…”. My initial stupor was quickly moving to anger and need for answers.

"I know, I know. I know the FBI was interrogation you this afternoon...". I grab the switch of lamp settled on the hall table and turned on the light. I needed to look him in the eye.

"Well, sure they did question me. What's the list they said?... Hunter, there are dead women!... What's going on?” I said with a lot of concern.

“I can only tell you I didn’t do it. I didn't kill those women, you have to believe me..." he tried to hold my hands but I didn’t let him.

"Don't ask me to believe you because I don't even know what's going on..."

"I didn’t do it. And the list thing is a long story. The important thing now is you are in danger… we are both in danger…”

"Why me?..."

"Did you see the photos of the murdered women?... Didn't that seem familiar?" They all look like you (Y/N). Who killed them will come for you... and for me... that's why I'm here. To prevent him from doing something to you”. That was a detail I had repaired but I wanted to ignore. Neither detective Gibson nor Emily made any reference to it when they showed me the pictures, but I had noticed.

"Who is he?... what does he want?... please tell me something so I can understand...". My nerves made me finally burst into tears.

"Gabriel... he... he worked with me. He's mad at me and that's why he wants to hurt you, to hurt me. He knows we are together now and he knows I’d do anything for you…”. He couldn’t continue speaking because he was interrupted by a noise at first I didn’t know where it came from. When I was able to react and turn around, I saw a man who had kicked open the apartment’s door and was pointing a gun at us.

"Don't move!... Don't even try!... both of you stay quiet!" he was screaming frantically.

“Gabriel… hey! Man... take it easy. We're not going to do anything stupid…”. Hunter started to speak.

"Of course you’re not. I was hoping you would get my message sooner and repair this shit, but apparently it wasn't enough. I had to come to the source..."

"What the hell is this guy talking about?...". I couldn't keep my mouth shut. Not even the fear I felt at that time was able to keep me silent.

"Shut your mouth! You're the reason for this damn bitch!..." he answered screaming and pointing his gun straight at me.

"No! She isn’t to blame. I wanted to get out of this…”. Hunter tried to convince him, to avoid shooting me. He seemed determined to do it.

"For her!... You´re a fucking coward, you fell in love with this slut and forgot all the important things...". Gabriel said waving his gun and pointing it at me directly.

"She doesn't even know what we do... come on man! Leave her out of this...". Hunter yelled.

“I don't give a damn she doesn’t know. As long as she is alive you’ll remain to be a stupid coward. You even collaborated with the FBI!, you're a fucking shit!...”

"That was years ago!...". Hunter yelled back.

"I don't care if it was yesterday or 10 years ago. That’s treason and you have to pay for that…”. Gabriel said, with a voice so sinister it could make your hair stand on end just listening to it.

"Therefore, kill me. If you're so upset, kill me now!...”

"I will, but first it’s this bitch’s turn...". I froze. I felt him release the safety of the gun and aimed directly at me adjusting the view to pull the trigger. I saw my life go by in three seconds. Not even my instinct for preservation was activated. I just closed my eyes, waiting for the outcome. In this bizarre situation, I didn't care about anything anymore. I just wanted it to be over, and if that meant I had to die, well, it would have to be.

I heard the noise of a gunshot, but felt nothing in my body. I wondered if it had been so fast I was already dead and not having noticed. In the background I felt a body fall followed by a scream "Stop! FBI!” and a second shot. Another body fell to the floor. It was only then I was able to open my eyes. I looked down and saw Hunter lying across from me with a wound on his chest. Two meters ahead Gabriel was face down with a head shot and Spencer stood in the doorway still with his gun raised.

"Fuck..." was all I managed to say before my legs completely buckled and I fell to my knees on the floor.

***

I ran out of the car and saw an injured police officer at the entrance. He was the one who had brought (Y/N) and who was assigned for her protection. I approached him and he just told me he had been hit in the head but he had already called reinforcements and the suspect had come up to (Y/N) department. It was on the 3rd floor. I hurried up the stairs, I had already drawn my gun. Arriving at the floor I heard the screams of two men arguing. My heart was pumping desperately, I didn't hear (Y/N)’s voice and that terrified me. When I reached the threshold of the door I saw how one of the unsub opened fire in the direction of (Y/N), but the other unsub who was in the room managed to get in the line of fire himself receiving the shot in the chest. I yelled at the other subject to alert him to my presence and dissuade him to lower the gun, but I immediately saw he was going to shoot another shot in the same direction, so I didn’t hesitate and shot him. The impact went straight to his head, falling to the floor immediately. When I looked at (Y/N), had eyes closed and her arms instinctively raised trying to protect her face. Seeing her alive I managed to breathe again. She opened her eyes and saw what had happened around her. First she noticed the body of the man who had come between her and the gunman, then the gunman upside down on the floor and then me. She fell to her knees trembling. I lowered my gun and ran to see if she was okay.

"(Y/N)... are you okay?... Are you hurt?...". She was shaking her head but couldn't speak. I didn't know whether to get too close. If I hug her maybe it would make things worse. I just dared to kneel in front of her and touch her shoulder to see if she reacted. Suddenly she raised her head and looked at me. With eyes full of tears, she hugged me and began to cry. I held her tight to try to calm her down. "It’s ok, it's over. It's all over. It’s ok, everything will be fine…” was the only thing I could tell her. A few minutes passed and the room filled with police. Behind them Emily, J.J., Luke and Rossi who upon seeing the scene immediately knew what had happened.

I knew what was coming. Maybe we should go to the police station again. (Y/N) and I would be questioned about what happened. But first I had to get (Y/N) to calm down and check if she was okay, at least physically. Paramedics arrived on the scene at that minute.

"Hey, we need the paramedics to check you up, okay?" I said in the softest voice I could. She nodded, not saying a word yet. I got up to allow the paramedics to do their job. She looked at me with pleading eyes, as if she didn't want me to leave. "I’ll be here. I won’t leave. I'm just going to talk to my boss and wait for you to be checked, ok?”. She nodded again. I approached Prentiss to tell her what had happened.

"Reid... what the hell happened here...?" Prentiss said with visible confusion on her face.

"Emily, if I was one minute late, (Y/N) would be dead...". Prentiss snorted.

"Do you think she can stand another interrogation?" she asked looking at (Y/N).

"I don’t know. But I don't think it's a good idea to take her to the station again. Besides, we already know what happened here”. I said, trying to dissuade her from that idea.

"But she can't stay here, it's a crime scene" said Emily.

“Can we get her to stay in a hotel while…? I don't think she want to go where someone she knows and has no family here”. I said, trying to ponder options.

"It's okay. Yes. We can fix that. Will you stay with her?” She asked me.

"Only if she wants to. If not, can we ask someone from the team to stay with her for today?”. I wasn't sure if she would reject me, but I also didn't want her to be alone.

"Yes. We can. Let me know”. Emily said before turning to speak to the officers who were photographing the scene. I stood there waiting for the paramedics to finish checking on (Y/N). When they turned away from her, I asked them about her condition.

"Physically she is ok, just some bruises on her wrists, but nothing else. But she's just coming out of shock. It is important to be watched and take a tranquilizer later night. I just gave her one now, so she should be quieter” said the paramedic before retiring. I thanked him and approached (Y/N). She still looked at me with watery eyes, but she felt somewhat calmer.

"How do you feel…?" was the only thing I could think to ask. Stupid question, but I had to say something.

"I don't know... I don't even know what just happened..." she said as took a visual tour of her living room.

"Yes. I imagine you are confused. I can explain more about this, but we should go somewhere else. You cannot stay here. We’ll make an arrangement for you to stay in a hotel today, unless you want to go to a friend…”. I said, analyzing her reaction.

"No... I can't let people see me in this condition. I can go to a hostel for tonight. Spencer, don't worry about me, I can manage on my own…”. It was the first time she said my name. It was impossible my memory didn’t go through our moments together and all the times that 'Spencer' ever came out of her mouth.

“I know you can… but… I wouldn't want you to be alone… today at least. If you don't want me to come with you, someone from the team can do it. And don't worry about the hotel, it's the least the FBI can do given the events…”. Did not answer. She was silent, inspecting the place again with her eyes.

"I need to get my clothes... or some of them at least..." she said almost to herself as she went to the bedroom. I figured I should wait for her so I nodded and stood in the same place. After a few minutes she left the bedroom with a bag. I gestured to her to leave the apartment, still full of police officers and CSI’s.

I opened the passenger door for (Y/N) so she could get in and left the bag on the back seat. I started driving on the way to the hotel where she could stay, it was the same one where we were spending the night so I knew the road. Neither said a word the whole trip. I felt like she wasn't there. Absorbed in her thoughts only with her gaze fixed on the window. When we arrived, I took out her bag and we reached the lobby.

"I'm Dr. Spencer Reid of the FBI, I need the key to the room assigned to (Y/N) (Y/L/N) reserved a while ago..." I said. (Y/N) wasn't looking at me, just had her eyes on the lobby decor or whatever else caught her eye. With the key we went to the elevator and went up to the 4th floor where the room was. I opened the door and let her in first. Then I entered and put her bag on the side of the hall. I stood to the side of the door. I didn't want to be intrusive and she sure wanted me to go.

"I... I’ll go to my room. It's right downstairs. You can settle in. If you want you can take a shower and change your clothes, or maybe you want to go to bed. Maybe you're hungry, I can ask you some food to room service, just tell me if you need something…”. I said trying to be brief, but of course, that has never been my strength. She turned to look at me. I think in the last few hours this was the first time she really 'saw' me.

"Could you... stay... a while?. I’ll do all you said, but I also need to understand and someone explain what happened. I need to know why Hunter is dead now and why I'm in the middle of this. Could you do that for me?... I don't really trust anyone else right now..." she said in a muffled voice, something that deeply touched me. Her confusion mixed with sadness further plunged the stake through my stomach. After all... I had some responsibility at the origin of this tragedy.

"Yes, what you need. While you shower and change I can order something to eat. You’re ok with that?...". She nodded, taking her bag and locking herself in the bathroom. I picked up the phone and called room service to order something to eat. I sat in the armchair at the entrance to the room and took my cell phone. I had a message from J.J.

"How is she? Are you going to need someone to stay with her? We are leaving the police station and going to the hotel. Emily said we were leaving for DC tomorrow at noon”. I wrote her everything was ok for now and thanks.

(Y/N) left the bathroom a while later. She had changed her clothes. She put her bag down on the side of the wall and sat on the couch. The food had arrived, so I moved the cart closer to the couch and uncapped the containers. I took a chair and sat in front of the sofa and next to the car with the food.

"It’ll be good you eat now. Surely you haven't done it all afternoon and night…”. I said, showing her the food. She nodded. A faint smile appeared on her face when she noticed one of the dishes was a pastrami sandwich, her favorite. Or at least it was when we were together. I had also asked for a hot chocolate, which I also remembered as one of her favorite drinks when it was cold.

"Thank you. I see there are things you have not forgotten…” she said, taking the sandwich.

"I assumed it was still your favorite..." I said with a small smile.

"Aren't you going to eat...?" She asked.

"Yes, I ordered another sandwich and a coffee..." I replied pointing to the rest of the things in the cart. With that said, I started eating myself. We were silent until we finished eating. She took a napkin, wiped her lips, her hands and left it in the cart.

"Well... while the medicine effect lasts... please tell me what all this was. Don't skip details. I need to know” she said, crossing arms over her chest and resting her back completely on the couch. I nodded and started to speak. I related to her from the beginning, that is, since we were assigned the case in Quantico. I told her about the deaths, where the list had come from. Hunter's relationship with the FBI, about the ‘cleaned’ properties, drugs, his partner... everything. As I spoke I watched her reactions and her body language. While I could see how she tensed each time I added more information, I could also see that things were making sense in her mind, as if she were putting together the pieces of a complicated puzzle. When I finished talking, she let out a sigh and bit her lower lip as if trying to hold her thoughts.

“So… it could have been me from the start. So those women shouldn't have died…” said (Y/N) shaking her head.

"Don’t say that... all women on the list were potential victims..." I tried to take out the thought from her mind.

"But I was the source of his anger... he said that to me". (Y/N) tried to refute me.

“You just channeled it. Hunter was his source of anger…”. I replied. I knew she was looking to blame herself and it wasn't fair.

"And now he's dead..." she said with tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I’m so sorry... I know you were together. I'm sorry you lost the man you fell in love with…”. I said trying to offer condolences for her loss. She lowered her head.

"You know?, Hunter was a very good man to me. Always patient, attentive, loving. It hurts me I couldn't ... reciprocate ... even though it was a small part of the love he felt for me. The poor man ended up losing his life for a woman who… would never love him as he loved her…” (Y/N) said outlining a sad smile. I didn't know exactly how to react to that. So she didn't love him? Did that give me a chance? Did she ever stop loving me?

"He made his decisions. You can't blame yourself for that. Finally... we cannot pretend what we aren’t or do not feel..." I said.

“Yes, they were not very smart decisions. But I don't blame him, I haven't made the smartest decisions in my life either…”. Was she talking about us? Why couldn't I get that out of my head? I didn't want to say it, but it just came out. I had to know.

“(Y/N)… I know maybe this is not the time to talk about this… but since you are talking about the decisions we make in life… when you told me we had to end our relationship to have at least a nice memory of what was… was it true? Did it end up being a good memory for you…?” I asked, leaning over the chair, resting my arms on my knees. She thought for a moment.

"It is. In fact. It was a wonderful three years Spencer…” she said giving me a warm smile. I felt I had a hard time swallowing. I wanted to tell her everything that was stuck in my chest, but I couldn't do it.

"Also for me…". It was the only thing I could say. An uncomfortable silence settled between us. I broke it by changing the subject. "What will you do now? Do you plan to stay in Philadelphia?..."

"I don’t know. At the moment I have my work here. I’ll have to find a place to live, but it should not be difficult. But I don't know, maybe I don't want to be here anymore. Maybe now I should try luck in Chicago…” she said with a shrug. I nodded.

“I know there is a lot to think about. But it's late and you should rest. Tomorrow you can start to see what to do. I can help you in whatever you need. Now you should try to sleep. If you need anything, I’m in room 321, you can call me directly from here…”. I said as I got up from my chair to go to my room.

"When are you going back to DC? ..." she asked.

"Tomorrow, at noon..." I said with a grimace as I walked to the door. She nodded.

"Okay. Well ... thanks Spencer. You saved my life after all. Gabriel was going to shoot again if you hadn't stopped him…” she said scratching his forehead as if trying to get the image out of her head. I just nodded. I didn't know how to respond to that.

"Try to sleep (Y/N). Tomorrow morning I’ll call you to ask how you are…”. It was the only thing that came out of my mouth.

"I'll try". She came over and gave me a hug. "Thanks again". When I tried to hug her back she was already away. I was awkwardly silent and left the room. She closed the door behind me. And I didn't say anything. Everything was still as stuck in my chest as before. Defeated, I returned to my room. I had one night to try to think what I was going to do. Would I let her go again? Would I let her get on with her life? Life that was so much more fragile than when we arrived in Philadelphia. At least now she was in no danger. But was that enough for me? I wanted her. How could I get her back?

I made my way to the bathroom. I took a short shower and went to bed. I lay on my back looking at the ceiling. My head was spinning. I couldn't force (Y/N) to do something she didn't want to do. She had to make her own decisions, it was her life and I had no right to interfere. But I could honestly express my feelings. I could never really tell her I was sorry, despite having broken my promises I still loved her and even being with another woman there was not a day I didn’t want to be with her again.

I was deep in my thoughts and insomnia when I felt two knocks on the door. I jumped out of bed, something could have happened to (Y/N) and maybe she needed my help. Without even looking through the peephole I opened the door. In front of me was the very (Y/N), with a jacket over her pajamas. She didn’t move or say anything.

"(Y/N)... did something happen? Are you okay?...". I asked with concern. She didn't say anything, just got close enough to me that I could feel the heat radiating from her body. She stood up on her feet and as she wrapped her arms around my neck pressing her lips to mine. With no time to lose, I reciprocated the kiss by wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her into the room as I slammed the door shut with one leg. Was this my chance? My last chance? Maybe I was about to find out.


	5. Part V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Spencer have a lot to talk about (maybe not just talk...)

_We can go sit on your back porch  
Relax  
Talk about anything  
It don't matter  
I'll be courageous if you can pretend  
That you've forgiven me_

The shock of recent events kept me awake. It was almost impossible not close my eyes and see me in the interrogation room. To see how Gabriel pointed his gun at me. To listen the body of Hunter dropping to the floor. To see Gabriel killed by a bullet fired by Spencer. To see Spencer after more than a year. Much to process. My life had taken a dramatic turn in hours. And there I was, lying on a hotel bed, with my back to the ceiling. What should I do?, was worth staying in Philadelphia?, had I the energy to start again elsewhere? .Whatever I must to decide, there was something kept bothering me: why did Spencer has to be here? By now he should have realized I didn’t "move" much this year. He did it? The things Spencer told me hours before made me speculate some things about 'us' still live in him. Or at least it was my wish. I felt bad. Hunter didn’t deserve my love for him like something functional to try to forget Reid. It was unfair. And now he was dead. My life was turning into a terrible gore movie. I hated that feeling.

My eyes were heavy, but it was impossible to fall asleep. I was tossing and turning. Would it be better to leave Philadelphia? Maybe what I said to Spencer about trying luck in Chicago might be a good idea. Start over. Again. Although something told me I had never started again. I felt still trapped in the feelings that made me flee DC more than one year ago.

In the talk of a few hours before I felt again how there was some habitual between us. As if there were things we never forgot about each other. It felt strangely good. And although neither knew exactly what had happened in the other's life - or at least I didn't - my heart was telling me the essence I loved most about Spencer was there. But it was not an option. I had already made that decision over a year ago. I couldn't back down. There were reasons to end our relationship and it wasn't a whim. I think he also finally understood.

It had to be strong. As much as I wanted to feel his comforting hug again, it wasn't right. I didn't want him to misinterpret my gratitude. Now, was it gratitude I felt at the time? The heat running through my body told me a different story. I miss him. Not a day went by I didn't miss him and want him with me. When I thought I had stopped loving Spencer Reid it was obvious I don't.

We had already tried and it didn’t work. Why should it be different this time?. Maybe it's necessary to give a final closure to this. It's a torture to think of all the "what ifs" possible. I had to let him go. I have to close every window could give us any hope. This had to be done once and for all.

I got out of bed, put on a jacket, and went downstairs to Spencer's room. What was I going to say to him at this hour of night I couldn't do in the morning? I didn’t know. I just knew I need to free that feeling stuck in my chest. I knocked gently on the door twice. Hoped he was awake. If he didn't open the door then I would go back to my room. I wasn’t going to insist. It didn't take more than a couple of minutes when I felt the door open and see Spencer looking at me with concern. He asked me if I was okay or if something was wrong. I wasn’t able to say a word. I just let my body speak for me. I got close enough to rise on my feet and catch his lips. What was I thinking? Probably in a farewell.

Would he be thinking the same thing? It was likely, since while we were kissing he took me by the waist and pulled me into the room, closing the door. How I missed those lips. I felt in a dream, guilty, but in a dream after all. My hands couldn't stay still, my fingers were lost in his soft hair, at the base of his neck, on his shoulders, on his face. I held on as much as I could to him so he wouldn't let me go. Feeling his breath so close to my face again brought me back to the best memories of our life together. Why is so difficult to let this man go?

When Spencer pulled back to look at me, his hands were still on my waist, a sign he didn't want to let me go either.

"(Y/N)..." he tried to speak but I cut him off immediately.

"Shhhh... don’t. You don't have to say anything. I just came to say goodbye…”. I said trying to find his lips again.

"No, I... I need to tell you..." without wanting to stop kissing me, he struggled to get words out of his mouth.

"I don’t want to know. Please don't say anything… just… let me have you one more time, ok?”. I just needed to be with him. I didn’t want to argue. I didn't want to question anything. I just needed him. Tomorrow I would see what to do. I just wanted to feel him one more time. My hands began to search for his skin under the shirt he wore, pulling to remove it from his body. He just released my waist to raise his arms and take the garment out. I dropped my jacket to the floor. Taking my waist again, he pushed me back until my back collided with one of the walls of the room. His mouth began to search my neck while with his fingers he unbuttoned the top of my pajamas and dropped it to the floor. Moans came from both of us. As my nails ripped at the skin on his arms, Spencer was anxious about leaving marks on my skin with his mouth and teeth, drowning out his moans and dropping loose phrases along with my name. I also couldn't help but empty part of my head into words.

"(Y/N)... I missed you so much..."

"Please Spencer... take me... I need you..."

"All these months... I’ve never... left..."

"Neither do I…"

"I’ll never let you go again... I promise..." I don't know if my head was playing tricks on me, but hearing his words gave me a false sense of 'reconciliation'. I knew it wasn’t possible. I pushed those thoughts away from my head and concentrated on his caresses. It's as it should be. Looking for his lips again, I began to push him gently towards the bed, where he dropped down leaning on his forearms, watching as I removed my pants and straddle him, but not before taking out his own pants, letting them fall to the floor.

There were things I hadn't forgotten about our intimacy, and one of them was what parts of Spencer’s body did I need to stroke and kiss to turn him on. I could see this had not changed in these months. His needy moans were the signal I needed to go along.

Being with his hands free while I straddling him, Spencer started squeezing my breasts. If I had to say what kind of man Spencer Reid was in terms of taste, clearly he is a man of breasts instead bottom. His eyes delighted at the sight, as my hands traced lines across his chest. He took my wrists and pulled me to him to catch me in a deep kiss. As if he wanted to suppress his words in those actions. In whispers some phrases escaped from his mouth.

"Do you want this?... do you want to ride me?... if that's you want, take it. Take everything you want from me. Tonight I want to please you for all the nights we haven't been together…” . I didn't need more. I adjusted my knees between his waist and aligned my entrance with his cock. Without warning I began to sink into him, letting out moans of pleasure as I felt him more and more.

"Fuck Spencer..." was all I could say before completely sinking. He let out a gasp as he felt inside me.

"(Y/N) you take it so good... I missed this so much... you do it so good...". That said, he started moving up his hips to feel more intensely how our bodies were rubbing together. If I had not forgotten how I should to touch him to turned on, he hadn’t forgotten what to do to make me feel this good. My moans were mixed with gasps that didn’t stop our movements. His hands on my hips helped me keep my pace and stability as I arched my back and dropped my head back. The movement became more frantic each time, I could see how Spencer tried to keep his eyes open and fixed on me. I also tried to keep my eyes on him even though was more difficult as I getting closer to my orgasm.

“(Y/N), baby… you feel so good. You make me feel so good. Yes, do it like this, take it, come on... take it all... I love you baby, I love you so much... I’ll never let you go again...". I connected those words to the excitement of the moment, but I couldn't help but remember the first time we had sex after Spencer was released from prison. It was very much like this moment. Both needy, both in love, both missing the other, both making promises about the future. But I didn't want to think about it. Not now. That little distraction was enough to keep me from realizing when I was now flat on my back on the mattress and Spencer began to thrusting me strongly, taking my hands over my head. The feeling was so pleasant I couldn't keep my eyes open. He kept talking to me between moans and gasps.

“(Y/N)… look at me, let me see your eyes. Please…". With effort I opened my eyes and looked directly at him. I could see my own lust reflected in him.

"Fuck Spencer... harder... I'm close...". I was struggling to prolong the sensation as much as possible before my orgasm, but I needed rudeness, I needed to lose control.

"(Y/N) say my name, say it ... tell me how I make you feel..."

"Spence... you make me feel so good... Spencer, you fuck me so good, baby... I love you... I love you so much... always love you...". At the crest of my orgasm those words came out of my mouth. And they were true. I don't know if he really noticed it, but at least they served to encourage him and make him lose control. His frantic movements combined with his fingers over my clit. A couple more thrusts were enough and I had lost myself in the heights.

"Fuck (Y/N)... I'm going to..."

Another couple of thrusts and I could feel how he cum inside me. A deep, hoarse moan came from his throat. Without much trouble, he fell on top of me, sinking his head into my shoulder. Only the sound of our labored breaths could be heard. A few seconds later he leaned on his hands to look at me. His glossy eyes, his lips and cheeks glowing along with that messy hair and beads of sweat running down his forehead were a panorama that only awakened more love in me. Without saying anything he began to kiss me. I just wrapped my arms around his neck and responded with a fervent and deep kiss. When we pulled away I could see a smile on his face. He got out of bed on the way to the bathroom. Returning from my ecstasy my neurons began to work again. It wasn't I regretted what I had done, it was just now I really didn't know what I was going to do. Was this the farewell I expected? No. I didn't expect him to rekindle those feelings in me. So was it true that neither of us managed to beat the other this year?

When he came back from the bathroom he brought a damp cloth and began to gently move it over my thighs and crotch to remove any residue of himself from me. He put it on the nightstand and leaned his back against the back of the bed, looking at me. The time to talk had come.

***

I didn’t expect that. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Seeing her in front of my door in the night ready to 'say goodbye' to me was a lot to process. I let myself go. Of course I wanted to be with her, not for that precise reason, but something inside me told me I could awaken some hope with this action.

I sat down on the backside of the bed and looked at her. It wasn’t the best place or time to discuss this, probably not, but time was running out. I wasn't going to let my silence make her run away from me again. (Y/N) hurried to speak first.

"I think I'd better get back to my room..." (Y/N) said as she sat down on the edge of the bed, her back to me.

"No. We cannot let this go and not talk about it ”

"I already told you Spencer, I just came to say goodbye..." she said avoiding my gaze and getting out of bed. This was going to be more difficult than I thought.

"(Y/N), I need half an hour of your time. Could you do that for me? If after that you think it is best to you leave, that's fine. I will understand...”. Would it be enough time to tell her everything? I hoped so.

"Do you think there are things to talk about?" she said with a bitter smile.

"Of course I do! If I remember correctly the last time we spoke, I didn't say much... and ok, it's my fault. I just want you to hear my part of the story. I propose this: let's get dressed and we can drink a coffee. After this, no one will be able to sleep anyway”. She thought a few seconds, then nodded.

"Ok. A coffee I think would be good idea”

We dressed quietly and I started making coffee from the machine in the room. It wouldn't be the best coffee in the world, but at least it would help. I placed two mugs on the small table settled in the corner of the room and gestured for her to sit down. After taking a sip and taking a deep breath, I started to speak.

"Do you remember how we got our first date?" I asked her.

"Are we going to review our entire history in half an hour?" she said crossing her arms over her chest. She was in defensive attitude. I tried not to let that stop me.

"You remember it?". I insisted.

"Yes. We had seen each other in Dr. Stevens' office a couple of times. When he wasn't there we talked for a while if you were willing to wait for him. Until one day I dared and invited you to a coffee. I think it was the first time I invited someone to come out first…”. (Y/N) said with a warm smile.

"That’s right. And I was so glad you did. It would have taken me more months do it myself, you know? Well, and I also suppose you have realized all those times I was going to visit Dr. Stevens, I really knew he was not there and I only came to see you…”. (Y/N) shook her head and bit her lower lip trying not to laugh.

"I wasn't sure, but I had no doubts about that either..." she said taking a sip of coffee. "It's a nice memory Spencer, but I don't know where you want to go with all this..."

"Do you remember our first kiss?" I said without wanting to answer her last question.

"Are you saying the time I kissed you on the threshold of my apartment door when we went out to dinner?". (Y/N) said describing the moment.

"Yep. Precisely. When my hands were shaking and I was dying to kiss you but I didn't dare. Until you did it and also, inside I thanked the gods I would not have had to wait months until I dared to do it. Well, I could also list several things I didn't dare to do for fear of rushing things or fear of ruining what was happening between us…”

"Yes, you were quite shy... I had forgotten that part..." (Y/N) said.

“But I learned a lot of things with you. I started to feel more confident in myself, especially in a relationship. I don't want to be a thorough on this, but I don't think I've ever told you how much I learned from you. And I regret not tell you about it before… just as I regret not having been more explicit about how important you were in my life the whole time we were together…”

“At that point I think the fault fall on both of us. We just took it for granted…” (Y/N) said with a sigh.

“The last time we spoke… over a year ago, you said things to me I didn't expect to hear, even though I was very aware our relationship was in bad shape. You said it was impossible to repair something that was already broken... and told me you felt you were not what I needed...". I could see how (Y/N) avoided my gaze and concentrated on her coffee mug. I dared to take her hand to make her look at me. "Hey!... I need you to know a few things about that so you understand why as far as I'm concerned, you shouldn't think that."

"Do you really think you can repair something that is broken...?" she said with a bitter smile.

"Not repair, rebuild. But for that we have to go back to our initial pact, remember?” I said, stroking his hand with my thumb.

“To tell everything we feel. No hide anything”. I nodded.

"Yes. And in that, I failed. I know. I broke that promise and left you enough away for you thought you were no longer important in my life. Do you remember what I told you the day I was released from prison?”

"I do. That we were going to make up for lost time. That we were never going to part. That no one could ever intervene in our relationship again…”

"That’s right. What I didn't count on was my obsession wanting to remove the things had happened in prison. As if not saying them was enough to make them not exist. But they did exist. Some you saw, some you felt... but I didn't want to tell you anything. I kept it for myself”

"Why did you do the opposite of what we had agreed? Did you really think you could protect me that way? Protect me from what?..."

"From me. It’s true I was no longer the same person, (Y/N). When you told me you felt you didn't know me anymore, it was confirmation of that. But what I never wanted to reveal was I was afraid of the person I had become… and I was afraid of hurting you by showing you this part of me. I was afraid to show it and give you a reason to stop loving me, for not being the same person you felt in love in first place. For some strange reason I thought keeping the routine between us was going to block the growing anger, the little patience, the lack of control I came to feel many times. Which, clearly, was not successful: our constant discussions proved it, do you remember?". I could see how tears rolled down (Y/N)'s cheeks. I also felt my eyes fill with tears, but I needed to stay calm to continue talking.

"I just wanted to know, want to help... but you didn't want to speak to me...". (Y/N) said between sobs.

"I see that. I left you apart. It's my fault. Believe me, I never wanted to go that far. But you should know it has always been you. You were the only person who could have understood and I left you out… you are the one who knows me better than anyone and although blindly, you knew exactly things were not right”. I said taking her other hand with mine.

"And what has changed in these months? What could be different now?..."

“I just want to say one more thing before I answer that question. The thing is… it’s completely false you are not the woman I deserve. It’s completely untrue you are not enough for me. And please forgive me for whatever I did to make you think that. I don't need a woman with an IQ equal to mine, I don't need a woman who with my same job, I don't need a woman who thinks like me, who has my same schedule, I don't need a woman with a stunning external beauty. I need you. You. You are the only woman to me. Even if I'm the one who doesn't deserve you. You’re intelligent, you have made your own way in life, you’re understanding, loving, so brave, you have overcome all the troubles you have faced, you are able to share your love with others, you are able to understand me ... and what a challenge! You have been my rock for three years and I had to lose you to be able to realize it…”. I released her hands, got up from the chair and walked over to where she was sitting. I knelt down in front of her and took her hands again. Tears still ran down her cheeks.

"Please Spencer, stop... don't keep talking..."

"I have not finished. I have 5 minutes to talk…”. That made her smile a little. “About your last question… what has changed? My love for you has not changed one bit, but my desire to compensate for having broken my promise and wanting to be with you beyond anything else is a realization more present in me today than before. What could be different? Whatever we'll want to be. I’m willing to do everything in my power to make you love me again, to you trust me again, to win back you as my friend and lover. Do you want to stay in Philadelphia? Okay. I’ll stay with you. Do you want to go to Chicago ? I’ll go with you…”

"I love you Spencer ... but I could never make you quit your job for me..." she said getting up from the chair and taking my hands so I could get up too.

"Not just for you, my love. For us. If it’s necessary, I’m ready to do it”. She was shaking her head.

"No, doing that would destroy you...". (Y/N) said hugging me and resting her head on my chest.

"I already feel like I'm completely destroyed without you ...". I said as I pressed her against my body. "Please give me a chance to show you how important you’re in my life...". I said without being able to hold back my tears. We were silent holding each other and sobbing.

"Maybe there is something else we can do...". (Y/N) said in a soft voice, barely perceptible. I pulled away to look her in the eye.

"I'll try anything you want...". I said.

"Let's to know each other again...". I looked at her a little oddly. I didn't know if I was comprehending what she meant. She smiled. For the first time an openly smile and I could see a different sparkle in her eyes. She took a pencil and paper from the table and wrote a number. "This is my number. I don't know how many more days I'll be here in Philly. I have to put things in order before going anywhere else. A few days ago I received an email from Dr. Stevens of Georgetown, asking me what I was currently working on. I think he has an open spot on his team. I'll think about it…". My smile could not have been bigger, which (Y/N) noticed and hurried to keep talking. “If I return to DC, I’ll stay with my sister a while. Time will tell Dr. Reid. Sounds good to you?". I happily nodded. She approached to me again, she tip toe rose and gave me a long, deep kiss. When we pulled away she gave me a smile, grabbed her jacket and left the room. Before closing the door she said "I love you Spencer. I mean it. Call me".

That’s what they call hope, a feeling that makes things almost impossible feel achievable. I clung to that hope. I trust in this woman with all my being. And if this is my last chance, I'm not going to waste it. I dialed the number on my phone and save it. This time, I won't let anything unsaid between us.


End file.
